Twice on the Pipe
by Sita Seraph
Summary: Based on the song 'Twice on the Pipe' - Duo is in love with a boy that lives right below him. There must be a creative way to get his attention...


Title: Twice on the Pipe

Author: Sita Seraph

Genre: Romance

Pairing: 1+2, 5x2, 2xOC

Rated: PG-13 I guess

Archive: Aya and Sonny's Aenai Ai- 

             Silver Crucifix – 

Warning: Fluffiness.  Shortness.

Song: Knock Three Times by ?

My morning alarm clock, I shall tell you, was not something normal people would have.  It wasn't the chaos caused by a monkey in France doing a naked dance in the street outside, it wasn't some desperate, regulated sex war coming from next door, and it wasn't the sound of Trowa – the bum - sneaking into my apartment for a snack and leaving out the window.  No, this noise was probably the most ridiculous thing in the world. It was, of course, the noise from downstairs, made as my rustling neighbor got up and started doing his squeaky, but efficient, exercises for whatever muscle program he was on.  Now, usually, I would have slept through even that…but this neighbor was a very important person to me. And this event was almost equally important. Why? Because 15 minutes later, he would poke his beautiful little shock of bed-head  out, pick up the newspaper, and stand there for a moment looking over the front page before disappearing back into his apartment.  Those precious seconds were the highlights of my entire day.  He was a gorgeous piece of muscle – I always fell for the guys with broad shoulders and – ahem – LONG legs.  And this guy…Holy hell, he had the most beautiful legs I've ever seen.  I wanted to nibble on them all day; they looked that good.  Like…candy.  Mmm…

Well, his shoulders weren't that broad, but he had good arms…muscular arms…tight and tough.  And he was technically my height, which was a comfort for the time being.  The last boyfriend I had gave me neck cramps because he was so friggin' tall.  I decided muscle was nice on tall guys, but they were better on spandex boys with a stomach pack I wanted to eat on.

I remembered the first time I saw him.  I was in the hall with Wufei, my second last ex-boyfriend, and we were fighting again.  We were yelling at each other, pointing fingers, and we were both ready to throw fists.  How we resisted doing so was beyond me.  We were in each other's faces and people were poking their heads out of their rooms to spare annoyed glances in our direction.  We always made scenes – we always fought – in public or private.  It didn't matter.  It was after we were winding down and Wufei had finally stomped off in his fury when he came out.  I was sitting against the wall, balling my hand in my ratty hair and wanting to throw something; it was then I noticed another human being in the hall.  I looked up, ready to tell whomever it was to fuck off and go to bed, but I didn't.  I didn't choke on my words.  I just…forgot them.  

Because when I saw him, I forgot everything.  I forgot why I was angry, I forgot I was mad; I forgot why I was sitting in the middle of the hall.  I even forgot what building I was in.  Because, certainly, no man that handsome could live in such a hellhole like this.  He had pretty blue eyes under weird and straggly eyebrows – my first thought was that I could grab those things, use them as reins, and ride this boy like a horse.  His hair was in worse shape but I loved guys with messy hair – perfect hair like Wufei's sucked.  I liked a man who didn't care if his hair was gnarlier than the aftereffects of a nuclear bomb.  He had a haggard appearance on his face, a grumpy little frown on his lips – obviously, we had woken him and the rest of the world up with our tiny fight.

But, you know, the real thing I remember that night was those goddamn eyes.  He didn't say anything.  But those two pupils did.  They said 'Get off your ass, and dump his.  I'm sick of this crap as it is!'

Okay, it was something like that.

And then he wandered back into his apartment and left me alone.  Needless to say, I did dump Wufei the next day.  I didn't think of that messy-haired guy again – except for those eyes.  Especially when I was curled with my back to Greg, my last ex-boyfriend, and could feel him looking at me.  Oh, how I was wishing it were that boy downstairs looking at me instead. I wished it was that boy curled up beside me…and not Greg.

I could count on my hands the number of times I saw that blue-eyed stranger face-to-face the day after I realized how much I wanted him.  We never talked.  Not once.  I doubted he even knew I lived above him.  But I could /never/ tell you how many times I wanted to talk to him, how I needed to see him again.  How much I just wanted a conversation; for him to know I was watching him from the staircase every other morning, when he collected his newspaper.

I think I loved him.

I didn't even know him.

I had to get to know him.

So I thought of a brilliant idea.

Slowly, I turned up my record player and backed away as it blasted into my face.

"Hey girl what ya doin' down there  
Dancin' alone every night while I live right above you  
I can hear your music playin'  
I can feel your body swayin'  
One floor below me you don't even know me  
I love you."

I got on my hands and knees, raised my fist, and knocked on the floor with all my strength.

"Oh my darling!  
Knock three times on the ceiling if you want me  
Twice on the pipe."

PingPing.

"…if the answer is noooo…"

Throwing myself up just as quickly, I jumped.

"Oh my sweetness..."

BOM!BOM!BOM!  
"Means you'll meet me in the hallway  
Twice on the pipe…"

PingPing.

"Means you ain't gonna show…"

I wondered if he was listening, if he was thinking what I wanted him to think.

"If you look out your window tonight  
Pull in the string with the note that's attached to my heart  
Read how many times I saw you  
How in my silence I adored you  
Only in my dreams did that wall between us come apart."

"Oh my darling!  
Knock three times on the ceiling if you want me  
Twice on the pipe."

PingPing.

"…if the answer is noooo…

"Oh my sweetness..."

BOM!BOM!BOM!  
"Means you'll meet me in the hallway  
Twice on the pipe…"

PingPing.

"Means you ain't gonna show…

"I can hear your music playin'  
I can feel your body swayin'  
One floor below me you don't even know me  
I love you.

"Oh my darling!  
Knock three times on the ceiling if you want me  
Twice on the pipe."

PingPing.

"…if the answer is noooo…  
  


"Oh my sweetness.."

BOM!BOM!BOM!  
"Means you'll meet me in the hallway  
Twice on the pipe…"

PingPing.

"Means you ain't gonna show…"

Breathless, I slumped to the floor, holding my throbbing hand.  Knocking on the hard floor and jumping around with the song was tougher work than I imagined.  The record kept spinning, a soft static filling the room as the needle came to the end.  I waited for some sort of response.  Surely he knew that I was talking about him.  Surely, he would answer back somehow.  He had to know I was trying to reach him.  Oh God, how I wanted to know what he was thinking that very moment.  Was he confused?  Was he angry?  He probably didn't even know what I looked like.  Perhaps he thought I was some silly girl – or maybe he only liked girls.  And if he responded, would he be disappointed to find out I don't have the body parts he was expecting?

I couldn't worry about that.  I didn't want to.  I just wanted to hold my breath and pray, pray to anything or anyone, that the answer would be yes.  That he wanted me, too, that he wanted this crazy fool who didn't have guts to call him up but decided to play a very old song for him instead.  Maybe he'd like my approach.  Think it was funny or creative.  Maybe he'd hate it.  Ignore it and go back to…washing dishes and not even answer.  Oh God, not even answer.  How stupid I would feel.  I'd die.  All my effort, all my nerve, and him just shrugging his shoulders and continuing on without even batting an eye.

What if he knew who I was?  What if he hated me?   What if he knew about all of my boyfriends and hated me, knowing, thinking it might not last, that I was incapable of making anything last? What if he thought I was just a person who slept around and didn't even want to bother with me?  Or what if that was exactly what he wanted?  To just have a one-night stand and then kick me out of his apartment, and pretend nothing – ack! No!  I would just have to  talk to him.  Talk to him and tell him everything; about watching him, about wanting to know him, about-

Suddenly three knocks resonated up from the floor beneath me.  I sat there.  I paused.  Then, slowly, a smile crept up my face and I fell back on the floor, kicking my legs and whispering 'YES!!' under my breath over and over again.

And that was the position I was in when two pings from the pipes below me resounded  through the floor.

I lowered my legs to the floor slowly, confused and disappointed at the same time.  But didn't he just say he wanted me?  And didn't he just say no?  A yes and a no?

I was wrenched out of my thoughts when the sound of the phone ringing tore through the room. Sighing, I dragged myself up, picking up the receiver roughly and grouchily putting it to my ear.

"What?" I grumbled.

"I don't want to meet you in the hall," a voice said.  "My door's unlocked."

And he hung up.

Needless to say, I was out my door seconds later.

Owari

Started: 12-6-02

1st Draft: 12-6-02

2nd Draft: 12-23-02

3rd Draft: 3-1-03


End file.
